


Some decisions have to be rewritten

by Hopestallion



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Character Death, F/M, M/M, Modern Day, Modern Era, Modern Setting, Violence, change of the show merlin, character illness, covers all five seasons of Merlin, medieval merlin, minor ooc to further the plot, modern merlin, ooc use, rising arthur, seasons 1-5 Merlin, sets after the five seasons and uses time travel to change from season 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-20
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-05 02:23:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1801912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopestallion/pseuds/Hopestallion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Arthur rises again, he's confused. The world has changed and all but his sword and his naked gloryness were left. Waking up in a room, he doesn't recognize, with a total stranger, he wonders what has happened. And where the hell is Merlin?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rise again

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first try in the Arthurian legend thing (or the BBC show Merlin) and i will hope to put all characters into their right setting and the right way of acting. IF there are any spelling mistakes or general language faults, please tell me (english is not my first language) other than that? Sets after season 5, spoilers might be in there and i hope you have fun ;D

 

Arthur knows there is something he is supposed to remember, something he is supposed to do. But the warmth of his bed, the softness of his sheets and pillows, holds him tight in their grip. That is until he moved his arms, rolls to his side and the blanket brushes his legs. His **naked** legs. If there was one thing Arthur knew for sure, it was that he never slept without his pants. Or undergarment for the matter. Yes, he never wore a shirt for sleeping, because he felt it to be suffocating, but his pants always stayed on. That he was wearing none and the fact that the scent of ocean hit his nose, finally registered and made him sit right up. His blue eyes wide open and his hand holding tight to the fabric of the blanket. What met his eyes was a huge flag in colors Arthur had never seen, there were paintings that looked deadly- realistic, small squares of them, pressed side by side. Shelves with books, a desk, a wardrobe, which was way smaller than his own. A chair and some weird things, that Arthur had never seen in his life, not even in Gaius' chambers, which meant a lot. Getting up from the bed he was on, meant to walk around naked, in chambers he didn't know. Whether that was wise or not, Arthur couldn't tell, but he knew for sure, he had to get some information. Looking around himself, his eyes fell on a chair next to the bed an in front of the large window, with thick and heavy curtains in red. The chair bore clothing for a man and Arthur was more than just sure, the clothing was meant for him. Stretching and making sure, that his midriff was covered with the blanket, the king of Camelot, took the clothing. He put on the undergarment, which stretched in his hands and felt soft to the touch, something he wondered. How could a commoner get their hands on such soft clothing? And was it a commoner? Who could afford red curtains? Arthur didn't know, couldn't make a picture of the man? Woman? who lived in these four white walls, that were too small, to even be a servants bedroom. He put the clothes, piece by piece on and wondered where the hell Merlin had gone. There wasn't much he could remember from the war and the happenings after it. But that Merlin had saved his life and was a sorcerer, still his manservant and as it seemed, much more useful than Arthur had ever given him credit for. If he had managed, to drag Arthur's butt back from the door of death, to the world of the living. Was nowhere to be found. Which was unlike Merlin and all the devotion he had given into keeping him safe and sound. 

He put on the rest of the clothing, without thinking to much, about the oddness that was Merlin's absence and the room he was in. The clothes fit him, thought he Shirt was a little too tight and his arm's felt a bit confined. But the trousers were a good fit and Arthur had to keep himself, from frowning craters into his forehead, about the weird material they were in. It wasn't the soft and worn leather form his own, or the expensive material, all his banquet clothes were in. It was sturdier and rougher to the touch, while it's insides were softer to the skin. Arthur took the liberty of leaving the bed and walked around the room, it was not snooping, more of a examining. Looking over the titles of the books, which none of them he knew, it wasn't like he was much of a reader. He had read the one or the other book, about strategy. Had read up on the history of his own kingdom and the royals of his own bloodline. But there was never more to interest him. His eyes traveled over the white wall, which was covered in those accurate pictures.  The same dark haired girl over and over again, in nearly every picture. Some were close and in an angel, that wasn't entirely flattering. Others were far away or, made while the girl was doing something. Sometimes there were other people, sometimes she was alone. And a few were without her entirely, showing other people, or places. Next to them was a map, that had small flags on each kingdom, all in different colors, colors that Arthur didn't know. What surprised him though was, that Camelot wasn't on the map, despite how large it was and what a reputation it had had. Not that Arthur was bragging with the successful way he had lead his kingdom. But he believed that Camelot was at least known by other kingdoms, and if not feared, respected or at least acknowledged. 

He found nothing that could satisfy his need of information and decided he should leave the room. It wasn't like Arthur only knew how to defend himself with his sword, he would know  a way of saving his life, if it came to it. The Pendragon though knew very well, that if someone wanted him dead, they would have already done so. Or at least tied him up, without giving him shelter and clothing. He opened the door, with the silver door handle and once more, wondered about the person who had taken him home. Maybe they were of noble? Not royal, but at least a lord or lady? His steps were muffled by the carpet to his feet, raising an eyebrow at the carelessness. What if someone decided to break in? Take the life of the owner of the house? They would never hear him coming. He walked down the small hallway, towards what he believed to be the dining room. "You're awake...:" a soft voice came from behind something that Arthur couldn't give a name, he only could see the top of a head, peaking from the furniture. Clearing his throat, he straightened his back, to show the authority he was. Rounding the thing and standing in front of a tiny girl, who was curled on the nameless thing, like on a bed. "You are a child..." his words, came out before he could stop them. He had been afraid of a child? How could a child look older on the paintings? Which idiot had done those? "Friendly, much?" she asked and tilted her head, the blanket slipping of her shoulders and showing a short sleeved blouse. "I demand you to tell me, who you are and to what purpose you brought me to your estate" His arms crossed over his chest, lips pressed into a line and eyes demanding, unblinking. Her head tilted from the right to the left side and considered him with a long look, before she sighed. "I really thought you were just some crazy college student, drunk of your ass and naked. Guess not... I found you at the nameless lake, during one of my patrol nights. To save you from getting killed or worse, driven to the city. I brought you here, tended to the small fever you had had and gave you clothes." she took a deep breath, before continuing. "Which seem to fit you, nice... Though the shirt is a bit tight... Anyways, my name is Alice and I am 25 years old. I live in this apartment by my self and I found you." 

What Arthur hadn't counted on was, for the woman - No, Alice- to explain everything to him. What city they were in, what the world was like now. _"London has changed considerably. We were fine up until 2014, that's at least what the history books say, or the ones you can still find."_ she said and took a sip from the tea, she had prepared for both of them. Arthur hadn't touched his, nor had he touched the sandwich which she had made for him. _"They say, he came just like that... Slaughtered half of parliament...the royal family... Everyone who stood in his way. He is mad, mad and angry at the world. For forgetting his king, for forgetting his kingdom, for forgetting him..."_ Alice eyes were having a far off look, the one Arthur knew from Gaius, when he had told him of old days. From Gwen, when she told him tales about her childhood and her father, or Merlin when he had used to talk about his mother. Arthur wondered how Hunith was doing and where this London was, why he was there and what his purpose was. She sat down her cup, that was half-empty now and fixed him with her blue eyes. _"No one dares to say anything against Emrys... they are too afraid to suffer his wrath. My family paid a high price for the riot they did, ages ago... Oh, the rumor that he is immortal is true. At least Gwaine and Morgana say so.."_ The king's golden head lifted from his stare into his cup. His eyes meeting her's once again. "Gwaine, Morgana?" he asked, not even bothering to form a real sentence or question. "Morgana Pendragon and Gwaine...now that I think about it, he never offered a surname" the frown vanished as fast as it had come, when the door bell rang and the dark haired stood up. "I promised to inform them, should you wake up. They are the last ones, who have hope for this world." she explained and hurried to open the door. Not caring to look back, at the king who held his head. Who didn't understand the world anymore, a world in which Morgana lived. In which she and Gwaine had hopes? In which there was no Camelot anymore and apparently no Merlin to laugh at him. Or to lend him a hand, should he need one, a hand, an ear to listen, wise words to hear. 

Voices sounded from the hallway and a shuffling of clothes and legs, that were dimmed and yet reached Arthur's ears. But he didn't want to look up, didn't want to believe that both were alive, that both were together here for him. "Arthur!" Gwaine was the first to enter the **'living-room'** kneeling in front of the **'sofa'** (Arthur hated the new words, hated the new world) and pulling him into a hug, that was nothing but girly. Though Arthur couldn't blame him, the last time they had seen each other, it was to ride out for war. Since then Arthur had been with Merlin and for a short time with Gaius. He had no knowledge of what had happened to Gwen, to his kingdom, his knights or his enemies. His head was over the shoulder of Gwaine and gave him a view of Morgana in pants and a long sleeved shirt. He didn't say a word and she didn't look up from her feet, her left hand holding onto her right arm, as if she was holding herself together. And for the first time, Arthur could see her again. The scared, from nightmares visited, girl who had lost her parents. Who had suffered pain and hate, without knowing why and what for. He pushed Gwaine gently from him, not even listening to his babbling, as he stood up from the sofa and took the steps that separated him from Morgana. He could see how Gwaine tensed, took a step forward and was held back by Alice, she shook her head and Gwaine sent her a glare, but didn't move. The flinch of his half-sister made him inwardly cringe and when he wrapped his arms around her, he knew her to be stiff like a statue. Waiting for him to stab her, snap her neck, suffocate her.But he did nothing of that sort, just held her in his arms, feeling her warm body against him. She wasn't the high priestess, Morgause had twisted and shaped, she wasn't the woman to hate Uther so much,that she couldn't see the difference in him and Arthur. She was simply Morgana now and he was simply Arthur. After a beat or two of his heart, loud in his ears, pumping through his veins, he let go of her. Looking into her pale green eyes, seeing tears sparkling, but held back and a fear he had never thought to see. Not even in her day and time of death, had Morgana looked afraid, not even when she had taken her final breaths. 

The group took places around the larger dining table and everyone was bestowed with a steaming cup of tea, as Morgana and Gwaine explained to Arthur their own situations. How they had woken up, in their own bodies, but lives they didn't know about. How they had struggled to find a way of surviving, a way of living. And how the world had gone dark, twisted, feared. How the only person, Arthur would have trusted with his life, was now the person who brought darkness,wherever he went. "He is not the same man anymore... and I can not find it in me to blame him" Gwaine said after a sip from his cup and burning the tip of his tongue. "I don't know and Morgana doesn't either, but it seems that he lived through the golden times of Camelot, through Gwen's reign and the many royal families that came after. He lived so long, that emptiness and hate grew to eat him alive. He can't die, he doesn't look older, than the day we fought the saxons." 

To say he doesn't understand would be a lie and if Arthur was asked if he could have ever thought of Merlin, to become that. The man who was feared throughout the world, who had brought kingdoms to their knees before him. He would have laughed into their face, but that had been before Gaius had told him. Told him,that he was the greatest sorcerer to ever walk the earth, the most powerful and the one with the biggest heart. But Arthur knew how people could be twisted and turned. By the cruelty of the world, the truth of life, the hatred of wrongs and the all consuming loneliness. "You were said to be the once and future king. The man to bring prosperity to Albion and unite it." Morgana knew the prophecies, had lived through nights of them. "You were said to rise again, should Albion be in need of a savior.", **"I won't kill him..."** his words were the first to ever come out, since Morgana and Gwaine had entered the **'apartment'** (another word he hated). "You won't have to... Morgana and I figured another way... maybe less safe, but less deaths too" Alice commented, he had **almost** forgotten she was there. 


	2. Power up, we're going back in time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur still didn't understand the whole 'generator - power-up' story. But he was willing to give anything a shot, that did not include killing Merlin. He just had to trust, that Gwaine was still loyal to the manservant. More than he had ever been, to his own king.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading my first chapter -> just FYI i write this story how i feel, so it's not something i have in mind and write as a plot. It's more of convenience and story telling. To get things outta my system. so if i kill or introduce characters, just to kill them again? please don't mind ;D

"Can you look any less suspicious?" Arthur would have returned something, something with equal amount of sarcasm. But with the situation at hand, she could have actually cut him some slack. It wasn't everyday, that you saw yourself in a **'museum'** , or well your things behind glass cases, displayed and described with little squares of light, that showed some words. Which Arthur could read now, after a spell of Morgana, that enabled him to understand modern-english. He did not like, the usage of magic, especially if Morgana was using it. But the dislike had had to make room, for the urgency of their problem. "Do you see it anywhere?" she asked and kept walking, past the old wooden round table, how Merlin had acquired the original one, Arthur would probably never know. But he could guess, that it was something that had to do with sorcery. **Merlin was a sorcerer a warlock.** His blue eyes wandered over display after display. His crown, the very first one, which he had been bestowed with. When his father had made him crown prince of Camelot. Arthur could remember the smiles, especially Merlin's, in the first row. Right next to Gaius and Guinevere. Next to it, stood his second crown, the crown of _"Arthur Pendragon, king of Camelot and once and future king of Albion"_ that's what at least, the glowing square said. In that moment? Arthur felt less than a king and even less than a knight.  Next to all his possession, Arthur could see moving pictures, which they had explained to him as **'movies'** or **'GIF's'** though Arthur still didn't know how they worked. He understood, that they showed a certain time or moment of happening, over and over again. Alice had explained it, as paintings that moved, which had helped less than he thought it would. "How come nobody, notices that we look alike?" he asked, as soon as they were in a room, that was crowded enough, for their voices to not carry. Wouldn't want anyone, to know what they were, really there for. "Oh, Morgana used a glamour on you. You look like some class mate of mine... Or well how he used to look like" she explained and moved her hand once over her face, just for emphasis. The Pendragon had picked up on the change in her tone, when she said that he used to look like that. He didn't want to ask, it wasn't his place to ask. But he wondered, if said class mate had been close to Alice, or if he had fallen in the great rebellion against Me . He still couldn't bring himself to associate death with him, not in this way. Not if he knew, the true and real him, beneath the darkness everyone seemed to see.  Arthur sighed heavily, his head was spewing girly nonsense once again. He should have never called Merlin a girl's petticoat, when he was obviously a mental one. They continued their walk through the museum, their eyes out to look for Excalibur. They would need it, if their plan, should ever go further than the first two phases. "Come on, Leo! Buy me a souvenir!" Alice tugged at his arm, pulling him along, past the guard who stood in front of the cases with the crowns and the other guard, who stood in front of Arthur's first chainmail. He disliked the alias they had given him, but it was better, than anything Gwaine could have come up with. "Alright, alright... I'll buy you whatever you want..." he said, aiming for enthusiastic and a bit annoyed, but failing completely.Arthur was not much of an actor. And who would have thought, acting skills would be needed in his line of work and life, anyway? They stopped at the souvenir shop and Alice maneuvered them, so Arthur's back would be to the camera behind him, while her's would blind the opposite one, to any talk they could have. If they would get caught talking on the tape, no one would guarantee that Merlin wouldn't find out about them. Who was to say, that Merlin couldn't read lips? She kept her hands looking through the cloaks, that you could buy. Trying to be a Lady like Morgana or a Queen like Guinevere, with deep and rich colors, but less in Quality as the originals had been. "The sword isn't here... but it's whereabouts are..." she told him and smiled, as if he was telling her something very nice. While Arthur tried to keep his face a mask of a smile, the girl seemed so trained in what she was doing. "How do you know?" he asked and pulled a cloak from the rack and held it up to her, shaking his head and pushing it back to the others. "Isn't it strange to you? All those artifacts? But not the most important one? How come it is kept a secret, that to defeat Morgana, there was a special sword needed? Or the reason you died, was that a special sword had wounded you? Unless...", "Unless, you wanted to make sure, that the only weapon to kill you. Won't ever be known, so no one can search for it and no one can use it..." 

"So it wasn't in the museum?" Gwaine asked, while his back was still facing them, his hands moving to flip whatever was in the pan, the other hand steering whatever ingredients were in the bowl. "Not a trace of it, which is logical. If there is only one thing that could kill me, I wouldn't want the world to know..." Alice replied and hopped onto the counter, next to Gwaine, her finger dipping into the bowel and immediately disappearing behind her lips. "Stop it, or there won't be enough sauce, to go with the spaghetti!" he exclaimed and she gave him a scrunch of her nose and showed him the now dark red tip of her tongue.  Arthur wasn't used to this, used to see Gwaine cook. Used to this kind of living, where they cooked for themselves, cleaned up after themselves and generally had to do everything themselves. Maybe it was some good lecture for him, to not take everything granted. Much like Guinevere had reprimanded him, when they had been in Ealdor. Arthur cleared his throat, but when none of the two, stopped bickering -completely forgotten about the sauce and now on to the laundry. He stood up and folded his arms in front of his chest. Gwaine was the first to stop and eye him with one raised eyebrow. The look that Arthur knew by heart, would be accompanied by the word he hated practically the most. "The princess wants to say something"  which made Alice perk up and let go of a spoon, with which she had intended to snatch some more sauce. "You'll never stop calling me that, will you?", "Didn't stop the first life, won't stop any other life, mate." The blonde man,  noticed how the dark haired girl watched them, with interest. Her head tilted slightly to the side, as if she was contemplating something. Shrugging her shoulders she hopped down from the counter, grabbed an apple from the fruits basket on the table and danced away. Her skirt swishing with her movements, as she twirled in the corridor and plopped down on the sofa. Arthur ignored Gwaine and some stupid stuff, the other thought was important to prove his right, of calling him a princess. But walked towards the sofa and looked at her, blue eyes locked with blue ones. Her lips curled up at each side, into a cat like smile, that made Arthur frown. "You have an idea, right?"he asked. Not that he needed to, because his gut feeling told him, he was right. It was much like Merlin, who showed him this smile, whenever he had one of this insane plans. Which weirdly had always succeeded. Now with the light of sorcery and Merlin's powers, it wasn't so 'weird' anymore. "I actually do... You're a quick one, king..." she mocked him, he knew that for sure, he wasn't sure though about what. Well not yet, anyway. 

They conversation and whatever would have followed it, were stopped midway. When the door burst open, just to be shut again, with a flick of Morgana's hand. Her body stumbling into the corridor and leading to the living-room. Collapsing, her body fell forward and took the coffee table with it to the ground. Glass shattered from a mug, that had been on the table and some useless decoration. Floors scattered all over the floor, as their vase, rolled over the carpet. That had been soft enough, to cushion it's fall. Magazines scattered on the ground, were ignored in favor to help the woman. "Morgana!"Alice was at her right, with Arthur at her left, pulling her up on the sofa. Gwaine had gotten them the first aid kit, in the meanwhile. "It's nothing to worry about... It'll heal..." she said and muttered something, holding her hand over it, but getting her hand pushed away. Her body too weak, to make her eyes glow or magic work. "I'm getting this..." Alice told her and closed her eyes, a frown forming on her forehead as her hand shimmered with a soft golden hue. She heard Morgana hiss and frowned a little deeper in concentration, ignoring Arthur's muttering. He could be angry with them all he wanted, especially for not telling him, that she was a sorceress or witch or whatever. "Did it work?" she asked and wiped her sweating forehead, with the sleeve of her own pullover. "Yeah, the skin is healed and the bleeding has stopped. The rest my magic will do... You shouldn't have done it..." Morgana scowled and knocked her knuckles of her left hand against the side of Alice's head. "Meanie" Alice pouted and stood up from the sofa, wobbling slightly, before Gwaine took her arm and steadied her, leading her away from the Pendragon siblings. "What did you find out?" Arthur asked his sister, dragging his eyes away from the cut and the wound, towards her face. To think of her as his sister now, was still weird and new to him. Though the feeling had never been gone, for real. "He has the sword stored at his HQ, which means in the London Tower. We have only one shot at this..." she leaned back against the sofa, closing her eyes and resting her head back. Not wanting to look into those blue eyes, those eyes she had betrayed. Of course they had talked it out, in long nights. Sometimes laying next to each other, sometimes sitting on that exact same sofa. But still, talking it out. Getting everything out, made none of her crimes any less of a crime and none the easier for Arthur to forgive her. If he could ever find it in himself to begin with. "You didn't tell me, she was with magic" her brother broke the silence, brother. That word had a nice ring to it, better than the bitter feeling she had tasted for a long time of her life. A life that was now nearly 2000 years in the past. "She isn't exactly magic. She has magic, yes. But the things she can do is limited." her voice was strained, she was tired and her body took all power it could get. "Her healing ability is limited. She can heal flesh wounds and stop certain amount of bleeding. But she never had to do the big shots.... And her other power is unstable, not really working whenever she wants it. It's the way Merlin has unleashed all of his own power" she sighed, the exhale of air, giving her enough time to think of how to explain it. "When Merlin unleashed his own power, made people bow down to his will. Creatures following his call? He sent out some kind of signal you could say. It's like a shout that is louder, than anybody else shout. And therefore drowns them all out. I am immune to it, because I am a high priestess, but even I don't stand a chance to his powers. Not anymore" Arthur ran a hand through his hair, which Morgana couldn't see, but she felt the brush of his elbow to her shoulder. "How could he become like this, Morgana?" he asked, the loss evident in his voice, thick and heavy like the clouds, that seemed to never move on. 

"They say, not those who leave hurt the most. But those who have to suffer and live with the loss. His was greater than any of ours and he suffered many years for it. Loneliness will do that to you, little brother." 

 


End file.
